


Twice the Hero

by KaitoKitsune



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Gen, Reincarnation, but only kind of, you'll see - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-25 10:30:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18259457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaitoKitsune/pseuds/KaitoKitsune
Summary: Link found the stones and opened the gateway, but when he fell into a deep sleep pulling the Master Sword, Ganondorf took advantage. His soul survived, and so he decided he'd do anything to save the land of Hyrule. He was sent to another world and incarnated as Harry Potter, the savior of the wizards, his memories gone.





	1. Prologue: Changing Fates

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, the prologue is super short I'm sorry :(

He had done it. All three spiritual stones and the Ocarina. He had gained access to the mythical realm. A sword placed at the entrance drew his eye. Deep blue hilt and gleaming silver blade, driven deep into the marble pedestal that creeping vines were beginning to take over.

 

He didn't think. He grabbed the hilt in a two handed grip and pulled, finding the strength to extract the stubborn blade. Mere seconds after he tugged the blade free, he crumpled into a heap of green clothing, his breathing even and quiet.

 

"Thank you, Hero," a voice said, chuckling darkly as he passed the limp body of the green-clad boy.

 

The dark figure paused, then turned to look at the boy who had pulled the sword. A decision was made that day. A decision that would change the fates of two worlds forever.

 

The evil man pulled a knife from his belt and crept up to the peacefully sleeping boy...


	2. Fallout

Link awoke on a hexagonal platform with the symbol of the Triforce in the center. He was quick to stand and look at his surroundings. A warm chuckle had him spinning around to face an older man. The man had a large, white moustache, and almost no hair on his head. 

"Link, I am Rauru, one of the ancient sages," he said. "The sword you pulled from the pedestal is known as the Master Sword. Only one worthy of becoming the Hero of Time can pull it out of the pedestal. However you were too young to be the Hero, and so the Master Sword sealed your spirit here, in the Chamber of Sages, the last stronghold against Ganondorf." Rauru then looked very sad. 

"Unfortunately, while your spirit was sealed, your body was not. Ganondorf found it, and I'm afraid it is far too late to do anything about it." Rauru said. Link gasped, and felt tears slip down his cheeks. He was dead, and for no reason other than Ganondorf's evil. It was too bad there were no walls in the Chamber of Sages, because Link sincerely felt like punching one. 

"Isn't there any other way I could save Hyrule?" Link pleaded desperately with Rauru, thinking of the Kokiri, Saria, Princess Zelda, Princess Ruto, and Darunia. Rauru nodded, restoring Link's hope, if only a little. 

"There is, but be warned that it is very dangerous and I do not recommend this lightly." Rauru said, but Link ignored his warning and nodded eagerly. The Light Sage sighed before starting the arcane spell that would help the Hero of Time. Link got the impression of rainbow light and spinning before his vision went black. 

.(). 

A ghostly figure hovered over the cottage in Godric's Hollow. He tugged on one pointed ear as he thought. Why were people ignoring the house that he could see perfectly? The multicoloured flashes of light in the windows should have been extremely attention grabbing. 

The nameless spirit floated into the home, past the red painted door that hung, splintered, off its hinges. He glanced at the body of a black-haired man, lying with glazed eyes on the floor and continued through the house, up a set of stairs from which he heard a commotion. 

At the top of the stairs, he saw two rooms, one silent and one full of a woman's cry for her child. The spirit drifted into the second room, a nursery, just as the acid-green death spell flew. The spell crashed into the redhead blocking the crib and she crumpled to the floor. 

The spirit, in an act of bravery, moved to protect the child in the crib. He heard a shout of 'Avada Kedavra', saw a sickly green light shoot towards him, and felt a pulling sensation before everything went black. 

.().

Our story truly begins with the defeat of the Dark Lord Voldemort. But quite frankly, most everyone knows that part of the story, so I'll skip ahead a bit. 

This story begins with one Albus Dumbledore at Number 4 Privet Drive. He was holding the infant boy he would place on the doorstep of Number 4. Looking at the child, he saw the eyes open slightly. 

Little Harry's eyes were a brilliant blue instead of the emerald they were supposed to be. In that moment, twinkling blue eyes locked with sapphires that were far older than they should be. That was the time Dumbledore knew that the wizarding world would never be the same. 

He placed young Harry along with the letter explaining the blood wards to Petunia. He then returned the light to the street and apparating away, leaving Harry and his now emerald eyes behind. 


	3. Fates Display

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Abuse mention, just so you're aware.  
> Also, the Sorcerer's Stone bits may be a bit off, I apologise

The Dursley family who lived at Number 4 Privet Drive liked to think they were the most normal people around. This was terrible for their orphaned nephew, Harry Potter. 

Harry at age ten, almost eleven, looked like a child of five. He was thin and short, with thick-framed glasses that looked like they had been broken and badly repaired. His clothes were washed out and far too big on his skinny frame. All in all, Harry was treated horribly by his relatives. 

This leads to the next part of our story, which begins in the kitchen of Number 4, where Harry is cooking bacon for his 'family' and his cousin, Dudley, is failing to count the massive stack of birthday presents on the table. 

"37... 38. Only 38 presents! That's two less than last year!" Dudley cried and Harry braced himself for the oncoming tantrum. Petunia Dursley, however was quick to intervene. 

"Duddums, you missed one, under the big gift from your Aunt Marge." Petunia placated the petulant pig. Dudley looked and, sure enough, there was yet another gift under the massive box. 

"That's still less than last year!" Dudley kept whining. His mother soon soothed him with the idea that he would get more gifts while they were out celebrating. Harry brought the pan of bacon to the table. 

'Jeez, Dudley is more annoying than Mido...' Harry thought, and then wondered where the thought had come from. You see, one more thing you should know about Harry is that he often thinks of places and people he has never heard of, but always vaguely remembered. 

Then the phone rang and broke Harry's train of thought. Petunia bustled to answer it, and when she did her face drained of colour. 

"Vernon!" She called to her husband. "Mrs. Figg broke her leg, she can't take the boy," she screeched. Vernon Dursley then imitated his wife's skin tone before turning a most unsightly shade of maroon. 

"Is there anyone else who could take the boy? I won't leave him here alone and come back to find he's blown up the house." Vernon scowled at the thought that his precious house would be blown up if he left Harry alone. Harry thought it would be quite nice to be alone for the day. 

"We could take him and leave him in the car," Petunia suggested, but Vernon shot that idea down extremely quick. 

"That's a new car and I won't have him doing anything in it without supervision." Vernon bristled. Dudley stuck his lip out in a pout and gathered fake tears in the corners of his eyes. 

"I don't want him to come, he'll ruin everything!" Dudley wailed at his mother. She bustled over and wrapped him in a hug. 

"Oh Duddikins, mummy won't let him ruin your birthday," Petunia soothed. The doorbell rang and Harry opened the door to find Dudleys friend, Piers. Dudley immediately ceased his false tears. 

Outside the car, Vernon slammed the door in Harry's face. 

"I will have none of your freakishness," he hissed. "If I see any funny business you'll be locked in the cupboard for a month." Harry nodded meekly and Vernon let him in the car. 

They soon arrived at the zoo and Vernon hissed a repeat of his original warning. Harry again nodded and then walked meekly behind the rest of the group, staring in awe at all the animals. 

They came upon the reptile house and Dudley insisted that they go inside. The fat pig of a boy looked at the snakes lazily drowsiness in the light from their heat lamps and started a mini tantrum. 

"Dad, make the snake move!" He shouted, gesturing wildly at a boa constrictor. His father tapped at the glass with one fat finger. The snake ignored him. 

"This is boooring," Dudley said after a moment, moving on to a new exhibit. Harry, however, stayed behind, feeling a sense of sympathy for the snake. 

"I bet you get that a lot," he whispered to the snake. Then to Harry's shock, it rose on its coils and nodded. 

"Can you understand me?" Harry hissed, and the boa nodded again with a wink. "Where are you from?" Harry asked, deciding to continue the odd, one sided conversation. The snake flicked its tail towards a sign on the wall next to it. 

"Brazil," Harry read out loud. "Did you like it there?" The snake again gestured with its tail. 'Bred in captivity, huh,' he thought. 'Sounds a lot like me,' he sighed mentally. Then Harry was shoved to the ground violently as Dudley raced towards the snake's habitat. 

"Look at what the snake's doing!" Dudley shouted. Harry glared at the pig-like boy. Suddenly the glass disappeared from under Dudley's fingers and he tumbled into the cage with his friend while the snake escaped. 

"Thankssss amigo," it hissed and slithered away. Over the screaming zoo goers, Harry heard the snake saying "Brazil, here I come!" 

Meanwhile, Dudleys parents were freaking out at the sight of their 'precious little Duddikins' trapped in the snake habitat. 

.().

After Dudley and Piers were extracted  from the snake habitat, the group left the zoo. Piers went home, Dudley went with Petunia to get some ice cream and Harry was cornered by Vernon next to his cupboard. 

"I. Said. No. Freakishness. BOY!" Vernon roared, punctuating his word with a meaty fist striking Harry. He scooped up the raven haired boy by his shirt collar and threw him into the cupboard so violently that Harry's nose broke, trickling blood onto the wall and his small cot. Vernon slammed the cupboard door shut, plunging a softly crying Harry into darkness. 

 

Chapter 3: Fates Letter 

About a month after the disastrous zoo trip, life was back to normal for Harry Potter. He was again serving breakfast to his relatives when they heard mail pushed through the slot in the door. 

"Dudley, get the mail," said Vernon. 

"Make Harry get it," Dudley whined. 

"Harry, get the mail," he switched targets. 

"Make Dudley get it," Harry said, attempting to make his cousin do some work for once. 

"Poke him with your Smeltings stick Dudley," came the reply. Harry dodged the cane and went to fetch the mail. 

He scooped up the thick pile of letters from the base of the door and began looking through them when two parchment envelopes caught his eye. He tucked them both up under his shirt and took the remaining letters to his uncle. 

Vernon, after receiving the mail, dismissed Harry, who then went to the cupboard under the stairs to read his letters. 

He looked at the two envelopes. One was addressed to 'Harry Potter, The Cupboard Under the Stairs, Number Four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging' but it was the other envelope that startled him. 

The second envelope was addressed to the cupboard under the stairs, but it was addressed to someone named Link. Harry ignored the envelope addressed to Link, putting it up on a shelf in the cupboard and forgetting about it. Instead, he eagerly tore open the letters addressed to him. 

"Dear Mr. Potter," Harry read under his breath. "We are pleased to tell you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We await your owl by September 1. Deputy Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall." 

'Witchcraft? Wizardry? What kind of joke is this?' Harry thought, but in the back of his mind there was a niggling thought, a half remembered call of 'Din's Fire!' followed by consuming red flames*. Harry came to a decision. He had to go outside anyways, he may as well see if an owl delivered the letter. 

Quickly, using half a pencil he found in the cupboard, he scribbled out a reply on the back of the acceptance letter (not the supply list, which he separated from the letter so he wouldn't send it back by accident). 

Harry went outside, telling his Aunt that he was going to garden, and saw a tawny Great Horned owl sitting on the fence. He approached the owl carefully, holding his reply out in front of him. The bird tilted its head and snatched the letter up, flying away. Harry nodded to himself and turned to the garden. 


	4. Fate's Avatar

An owl swooped into the office of one Minerva McGonagall, bearing a piece of parchment. She stroked the owls feathers, took the letter from its claws and slipped it an owl treat. As her owl flew away, she turned to the note. 

The letter was scribbled on the back of an acceptance letter in messy handwriting.

'Dear Ms. McGonagall,' it read. 'My name is Harry Potter and I am writing to ask further questions about my acceptance to Hogwarts. If you could make time to come see me and help explain this magic thing, that'd be really great!' McGonagall gaped, Harry had not been told of his heritage! She knew she should have stopped Dumbledore from placing him with those awful Muggles. 

Minerva apparated to Privet Drive, quickly shifting into her Animagus form of a tabby cat and stalking to Number 4. 

When she arrived, she spotted a skinny, black-haired boy weeding the garden in the heat. She leapt atop the fence and from there dropped into the garden, catching the boys attention. He stood from his weeding and began scratching between McGonagall's ears, setting her purring. 

"When I asked for someone to explain magic I wasn't expecting a cat," Harry said, and McGonagall pulled away from the delightful scratches to become human again. Harry gasped in shock at Minerva's transformation. 

"Hello," she said with a smile. "My name is Minerva McGonagall, I've come to explain magic. First things first, you should probably get permission to come with me." On the outside, Minerva was calm but inside she was seething. Harry was far too thin, wearing oversized clothes and his hands were scratched from the thornier weeds. 

Harry scampered inside and she saw his silhouette on the window next to another shadow. A few moments passed and she saw Harry's shadow get slapped, in fact with her heightened senses from being an Animagus, she heard it too. Soon after, Harry emerged from the house, nursing a red cheek. 

McGonagall's mothering instincts, long forgotten but still there, kicked into overdrive, telling her to take Harry far away from Privet Drive and take care of him. She shook those thoughts away, focusing instead on introducing Harry to the Wizarding World. 

"Take hold of my arm," she said, wanting to get Harry away from those horrible Muggles, at least for a while. "Don't let go under any circumstances," she warned him, and soon she found herself with a death gripping child on her arm. She turned on her heel and apparated to the Leaky Cauldron. 

.(3rd person: Harry).

 

After the odd sensation of being squeezed through a particularly small tube faded, Harry looked around the area. The place they had appeared was a dingy old pub. Harry looked at McGonagall in confusion. She saw his look and opened her mouth to speak as they walked across the pub. 

"This is the Leaky Cauldron, the entrance to Diagon Alley, where we'll pick up your supplies," she said, nodding at the bartender and continuing through a back door. They arrived in a small alleyway that ended in a brick wall. 

"Pay attention," McGonagall said, taking a slim, polished piece of wood out of her robe. She traced it along the bricks, muttering under her breath, and then tapped one brick thrice. The wall separated out into an archway, revealing the colourful alley full of magic. Harry gaped at the whirring, shining, brilliant shops and turned to McGonagall. 

"Welcome," she said. "To Diagon Alley. First things first, let's head to Gringotts, the bank, to get money for your supplies." Harry nodded and they set off down the Alley. 


	5. Chapter 5

Harry tried to contain his awe as they approached the massive, marble bank. He stared at stately gold doors before a plaque next to them caught his eye. He began to read it aloud. 

"'Enter, stranger, but take heed  
Of what awaits the sin of greed  
For those who take, but do not earn,  
Must pay most dearly in their turn.  
So if you seek beneath our floors  
A treasure that was never yours,  
Thief, you have been warned, beware  
Of finding more than treasure there.' What does that mean ma'am?" Harry turned to McGonagall with an expectant expression. 

"Mr. Potter, it means that Gringotts is proud of its security, as they should be. There's no safer place than Gringotts, except perhaps Hogwarts. You would be a fool to try and steal from the goblins that run it. Now, let's continue on, shall we?" Harry nodded eagerly, and the two of them moved into the bank. 

McGonagall addressed one of the goblins sitting at a tellers desk. 

"Sir Shredfang, may your gold flow like a river," she said, and the goblin nodded politely in her direction. 

"Madame Catsclaw," the goblin said, causing Harry to scrunch up his face in confusion. "May your enemies fall by your blade. I assume this is one of the new muggleborn students?" Shredfang asked, inclining his nose towards Harry. McGonagall shook her head. 

"This is Harry Potter." McGonagall said simply, and Shredfang looked confused before sweeping an evaluating gaze over Harry's scrawny form. 

"Do you have his key?" Shredfang asked, turning his gaze back to McGonagall. She shook her head. 

"I'm afraid not, but we could get a blood test to confirm his identity," she said, and Harry paled slightly. Shredfang nodded and called over his shoulder in what sounded like gibberish to Harry. Another goblin scampered over, carrying a vial, quill, and a piece of parchment. Shredfang dipped the quill into the vial and turned to Harry. 

"Your hand, please," Shredfang said, holding out his own long-fingered hand. Harry swallowed around the lump in his throat and held out his hand. Shredfangs quill stabbed into his hand, drawing a few drops of blood. The quill was then put to the parchment. It danced across of its own accord, spelling out names in a neat, looping scrawl. It reached the end of the page and wrote four capital letters before coming to a stop and falling over. 

Shredfang nodded, as if he had expected that result all along, but Harry had seen Shredfang blank and then look shocked. Harry stood on his tiptoes to see the parchment. The neat red ink that flowed across the parchment showed his name, his parents names, and the vaults that his family owned. The capitals at the bottom caught his attention. It spelled LINK in the same fluid cursive. 

"It appears that this is, in fact, Harry Potter," Shredfang said. He then turned and barked an order at another goblin. The goblin stalked up to them and inclined his head. 

"Sir Griphook," McGonagall intoned, imitating the goblins movement. Griphook turned and beckoned them to follow. They were led through a series of hallways and ended up at a rickety-looking mine cart. They boarded the cart, and were off, soaring down through layers of other vaults. Soon they arrived at their destination. 

Griphook slid a single claw down the keyhole, which glowed a soft gold, and a key popped out. The goblin handed it to Harry, with a quiet warning to keep it safe. Then the vault opened. 

Piles upon piles of gold, silver and bronze coins greeted Harry, and he stared, jaw dropping in unrestrained awe. Griphook handed him a small bag that had been charmed to be weightless and expanding. McGonagall spoke up as she watched Harry fill the bag with the coins. 

"The gold ones," she began. "Are galleons. They are worth 17 sickles, which are the silver. Sickles, in turn are worth 29 knuts, which are the small bronze ones." Harry nodded quietly at her explanation and, once she deemed there was enough money to purchase everything, Griphook took them back to the surface. 

.(Madame Malkins Robes).

After they left Gringotts, McGonagall led Harry to a shop with mannequins staring out into the Alley watchfully from the window. Harry stared up at the sign, which read in elegant cursive, 'Madame Malkins Robes for All Occasions.' 

Harry entered, the door making a pleasant chime as he did. He saw a blond boy standing on a stool, being fussed over by a woman who was pinning his robes. 

"Be right there," the woman called in a gentle singsong, placing one last pin before standing and sweeping towards Harry. "Hogwarts as well dear?" She asked, but then spotted McGonagall and nodding to herself. 

Harry was placed onto a stool next to the other boy while the seamstress bustled off to fetch more fabric. 

"Hogwarts too?" The blond said brusquely. Harry just nodded silently. The blond continued his one sided conversation with Harry until his robes were finished. 

"See you at Hogwarts," the boy said, and then he was gone. Harry breathed a sigh of relief, and then the seamstress told him he was finished as well. 

Harry walked out of Madam Malkins feeling appropriately annoyed with the blonde boy. He was completely ignoring his surroundings in order to grumble silently until he felt a birds claws grab onto his shoulder. He flinched up and looked over to find an elegant bird with tri-coloured plumage. The birds feathers started out a fiery red on it's head, melting into a soft sky blue that faded into a bright leaf green. It also had gold marks underneath it's eyes. 

It twittered, soothing his annoyance and stirring deeply buried memories of hours of learning to play a small, egg shaped instrument. The memory did not provide the name of the instrument, but instead showed him a green-haired girl patiently correcting his hands with a smile whenever he placed them wrong. He smiled at the tri-coloured bird, not noticing McGonagall's stunned look as the bird snuggled up against him as they made their way to the final shop. 

Ollivanders the sign proclaimed, makers of fine wands since 382 B.C. A soft chime rang out as Harry opened the door. The bird sang a few cheery notes from its earlier song and he stroked its feathers in response. 

"Harry Potter," a voice called, making him leap, unsettling the bird on his shoulder and causing it to twitter angrily at the cause of his jump, which happened to be an ethereal man with wispy gray hair and moon-like eyes. 

"I wondered when I'd be seeing you here," the man continued. Harry found himself entranced by the owlish eyes of the wandmaker. "You have your mothers eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work. Your father, on the other hand, favoured a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favoured it — it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

Harry blinked owlishly at the influx of information. He only processed that the wispy man had known his parents. 

"Which is your wand arm," Ollivander inquired unexpectedly, making Harry jump slightly and he hesitantly held out his right arm. Ollivander set about measuring, then left to move amongst the shelves. Harry noticed that the tape measure continued to move, measuring everything from the length of his fingernails to the width between his nostrils. 

"That's enough," Ollivander said to the tape measure as he returned with a slim box. The tape measure crumpled to the floor and Ollivander removed a slim, polished rod of wood from the velvet lining of the box. He held it out to Harry, who took it slowly, as if the wand might bite him. 

"Ivy and unicorn tail hair, 12 inches, pliable," the wandmaker listed off as Harry stared at the intricate carvings on the wood. "Go on, give it a wave," Ollivander encouraged. Harry did, and almost immediately something exploded, startling both into a leap. 

"Apparently not," Ollivander almost growled, snatching the slim wood from Harry's fingers. He replaced the wand in its box before pulling another off the shelf. "Here, oak and dragon heartstring, 11 and 1/2 inches, rather stiff." 

Again, Harry took the proffered wand. Again he swished it through the air. Again, something exploded, although less violently than the first time. They continued this song and dance, going through everything from 'willow and ice phoenix feather, 13 and 1/2 inches, swishy' to 'rowan and phoenix feather, 14 and 1/2 inches, slightly springy,' until Ollivander paused, humming thoughtfully. 

"I wonder," he mused, before scurrying to the back of the shop and returning with a slim, ornate box. He removed the polished wood from the beautiful box and held it out to Harry delicately. As Harry took it, the wandmaker launched into an explanation of its components. 

"Holly and phoenix feather," he said, almost reverently. "11 inches, nice and supple." Harry took the slim rod of wood, as delicately and reverently as it had been held out to him. He felt something click with his very soul, but at the same time it wasn't quite right. Harry felt as if something was missing. It was like a hug from a distant relative, comforting yet alien. 

As if sensing what he felt, the wand set off a few sparks. Ollivanders eyes lit up for a second, until he saw that the sparks were few in number, and a dull smokey gray that fizzled out within a few seconds. 

"Curious. Very curious," Ollivander mumbled thoughtfully. He wandered to the back of the shop before Harry could ask what was curious. Soon, the wandmaker returned with yet another box. This box was less ornate than the last, but was wrapped with strange runes. It had an image of three connected triangles. 

The bird on Harry's shoulder began chirping out another tune that reminded him vaguely of something and he smiled. He took the wand carefully out of the box. As soon as he did so, it felt like his soul was singing. Something clicked with his very soul and sparks in brilliant shades of red, blue, green and gold spurted out of the end of the wand. 

"I-I have never seen such a strong connection between wand and wizard before," Ollivander murmured reverently, beaming as if his dearest wish had been granted. "This wand is one of a kind, absolutely unique. A woman with the oddest blue hair brought me the components. She told me that the wood was from a very ancient tree from an even older country. This tree is known as the Great Deku Tree by those who know of it. The core, however is from a mighty lava dragon. Very rare, and very powerful. You are destined for great things Mister Potter. Don't let this greatness corrupt you." 

Harry paid for his new wand and left the shop, feeling very unsettled, but content. He glanced at the bird on his shoulder. 

"I need to give you a name," he said to his feathered companion, brushing through said feathers where they transitioned between red and blue. It made a soft chirrup in response. Harry hummed, deep in thought before he slammed his hands together. The bird squawked awkwardly, and Harry stroked its crest in apology. 

"I'm sorry," he said. "But I've come up with the perfect name for you. What do you think of 'Ocarina'?"


	6. Train Ride

~Draco 3rd person~

Draco stood nervously before the Floo, waiting for his father to return with the Floo Powder. His snowy owl Artemis* was comfortably settled on his shoulder running her beak through his slick hair. 

Soon, his father arrived carrying a mokeskin pouch of Floo Powder. 

"Draco," his father said in the usual silky purr. "When you board the train, you must make sure you befriend the correct people. Especially Harry Potter if you can."

Draco nodded nervously, and on his shoulder, Artemis bobbed her snowy head, turning molten gold eyes on Dracos father. Lucius returned the nod, and tossed the Powder into the flames with a brisk flick. The roaring fire turned the brilliant green typical of Floo Powder. Draco braced himself, stroked his owls feathers, and stepped through. 

After the brief tumble through the fireplace, he was in front of a scarlet steam engine. He looked around the crowded platform, stepping slightly from the fireplace as he did. Artemis gave a weak sounding bark as she tried to recover from the transportation. 

When she recovered, her head swivelled to one side and she hooted particularly enthusiastically. She swooped off of Draco's shoulder and across the platform. 

"Artemis!" Draco yelped. "Come back!" And with that, he darted after the snowy owl. 

.(This is a Scene Change).

Ocarina fluttered off of Harry's shoulder, causing him to glance upward and see a snowy owl swoop towards him. He closed his eyes in preparation for the talons he was sure would rake across his face, but instead felt the weight of the bird settle where Ocarina had been sitting just moments before. 

Harry opened his eyes and looked at the owl. 

"Hi," he said to it, stroking its soft feathers. He heard footsteps coming in his direction, and saw a blond boy running towards him. 

"Artemis! There you are," the boy called, and the owl barked in confirmation before flying to him. The boy caught his breath and held a slim hand out to Harry. 

"Thanks for finding Artemis," he said. "My name is Draco Malfoy." Harry took Dracos hand cautiously, as if it would bite him. 

"My name's Harry Potter. And I didn't find your owl, she found me," he said with a smile. Draco's eyes widened infinitesimally before he smiled widely. 

"Well, we should probably board the train and stow our trunks," Draco said. "Would you like to share a compartment?" Harry nodded quietly, trailing after Draco with his trunk in hand and both birds perched on his shoulders. 

The owl and phoenix seemed deep in conversation, staring at each other. Artemis made an annoyed bark, and Ocarina replied with a soft hum. This continued on for a few seconds before Ocarina dug her claws into Harry's should just enough to draw a drop of blood, making a harsh croon at the snowy owl opposite her. Harry suddenly heard a gentle, feminine voice superimposed over Ocarinas normal trills and hums. 

"This is my bonded, Snowbird." Artemis barked indignantly at that. "I don't care if your survival depends on a bond. This one is mine. If you're so desperate, go bond with Dragon Constellation over there!"

Artemis tossed her head and ruffled her wings before swooping away as Ocarina unveiled her impressive wingspan. Harry stroked her soft chest feathers, making a 'huh' noise under his breath, wandering onto the train. 

He followed Draco to a compartment and, after lifting his trunk to the luggage rack, sat across from him. The two sat in silence for a few minutes before Draco attempted to start up a conversation. 

"What house do you think you'll be in?" Draco asked, not noticing Harry's confusion at the word house and continuing. "I hope to be in Slytherin myself." He grinned and began to daydream slightly about what it would be like. 

The words "what's a Slytherin" broke Draco out of his reverie. He turned incredulously towards Harry, looking utterly scandalized. 

"You," he began, "have never heard of Slytherin! What about Griffindor? Ravenclaw? Hell, even Hufflepuff!?" Harry just looked more confused with each house he named until he finally cried out. 

"What the hell is a Hufflepuff!?" Harry yelped, baffling Draco. Draco just sighed and resigned himself to explaining the houses. 

"Those are the four houses at Hogwarts," he started. "Your house is determined by your personality. Slytherins are chosen because of their cunning and ambition, but blood status doesn't hurt either. Griffindors are a bunch of idiots who tend to rush into a situation headfirst, or as they think, a courageous and chivalrous bunch. Ravenclaws are hailed for their intelligence whilst Hufflepuff takes the ones that don't particularly fit into any of the other houses." Draco finished his explanation with a grin, hoping he had made an unbiased impression on Harry, who was nodding thoughtfully. 

"Anything from the trolley, dears?" A voice called from the entrance, making them both leap at the sudden appearance of another person. They soon recovered from their startlement and Draco was first to request something. 

"Just some chocolate frogs and pumpkin pasties please," he said. The witch at the trolley nodded and counted out enough of both items for the two boys. 

"That'll be 4 Galleons, dearie," the witch said, holding out her hand for said Galleons. Draco complied quickly and received the sweets. 

He passed a pasty to Harry, who unwrapped it warily, as if the treat would bite him. Draco also opened a pasty. 

As the two continued to work slowly through the small stack of pasties and frogs, the door to the compartment slid open. 

"Pardon me," said the visitor. "But have either of you seen a toad. A boy named Neville has lost his." 

"Sorry," Harry apologized quietly. "No toads in here, only frogs." He held up a chocolate frog with a chuckle. 

"Maybe you could ask an older student to find it using a spell?" Draco suggested. 

"Oh!" The visitor squeaked. "I don't know why I didn't think of that! Anyway, I apologize for bothering you. See you later!"

.(Nothing else really eventful happens*).

The train slowed to a stop, allowing the students to disembark. 

"Firs' years!" Harry heard a booming voice cry. "Firs' years over here!" A swarm of eleven year olds moved towards the voice, muttering amongst themselves. 

The path they were led along was dark, and a few stumbled but were helped up by their peers. The large group stopped at the lake shore and their guide bellowed out another instruction. 

"No more' four to a boat!" Harry and Draco boarded one that had the girl who had been toad hunting, and a rather timid boy. Draco introduced himself, followed by Harry. 

The other two gaped for a moment, but recovered enough to continue the introductions. The girl turned out to be one Hermione Granger, and the boy Neville Longbottom, who had lost the toad that Hermione now held. 

The boats had arrived at the fantastical castle and the first years were lead to a grand doorway. The massive man that had led them this far slammed one huge fist into the oak wood with a resounding BANG. 

A stern Professor McGonagall opened the heavy doors and led the group inside. She gave a speech on the houses and left them in the hall. 

Screams burst out amongst a few students, and Harry looked towards the source. A group of transparent figures had floated through the walls, discussing how someone named Peeves deserved a second chance. One of the figures noticed the group and addressed them. 

"Ah, first years," the plump figure intoned, "waiting to be sorted. Hope to see you in Hufflepuff, my old house." 

It was at that moment McGonagall return and gestured them into the next area. Most gaped at the star spattered ceiling. Harry heard Hermione mutter something she read about but most of his focus was on McGonagall, who was placing a small stool at the front of the Hall. 

On top of the stool was a battered hat. After the hat was placed, a hush fell over the hall as a tear near the brim opened and the hat began to sing. Once the song was finished, McGonagall stepped forward with a scroll of names and called the first years up. Harry only vaguely noticed as Neville went to Griffindor along with Hermione and Draco got his wish of being a Slytherin. 

Harry drifted up to the stool when his name was called, not even registering the whispers that trailed him. He felt the hat slip down over his eyes. 

"What do we have here?" A voice rasped in his ear. "It's the first time I've seen anything quite like this. Ah, but I know just where to put the chosen hero, the bearer of Courage could go nowhere but GRIFFINDOR!"

Harry slid the hat off his head and made his way to the Griffindor table, ignoring Dracos accusing glare in favour of pondering why the hat had called him the chosen hero and bearer of courage. He sat next to Hermione, still considering the mystery. The sorting ended with the final student going to Slytherin. 


	7. Chapter 7

As soon as the last student, and newest Slytherin, was settled, a man with a most impressive beard at the head table stood. 

"For our newcomers," he announced, voice carrying through the massive hall. "Welcome to Hogwarts. To our returning students, welcome back. I just have a few words to share before we begin, and here they are: nitwit, blubber, oddment, tweak! Thank you!" 

Harry turned to Hermione with a question on his tongue, but paused when he noticed her taking a slice of a chicken that certainly hadn't been on the table a moment ago. A massive, rich feast was spread across all five tables and Harry silently gaped before taking some of it onto his own plate. Between bites of the rich food, he turned to Hermione and asked the question that had been burning on his tongue. 

"Is he mad?" Harry asked, and quite a few of the other Griffindors gave him identical looks before turning back to their meals. An older redhead turned to reply. 

"Professor Dumbledore does seem that way, doesn't he? But he is a genius. Potatoes?" The redhead offered Harry a plate of delicious looking scalloped potatoes, which Harry politely declined. As he did, another redhead squeaked in fear as one of the ghosts slid through the bench beside him. 

"Hello there," said the ghost, in a surprisingly cheery tone. "Welcome to Griffindor!"

"I know you!" The squeaking redhead shouted. "You're Nearly-Headless Nick!" The now-named Nick looked affronted. 

"I prefer Sir Nicholas, if you don't mind," he huffed. 

"Nearly-Headless?" Hermione repeated questioningly. "How can you be 'nearly headless'?" A few other Griffindors blanched at her question. 

"Why like this," Nick said, tilting his head off his shoulders with a shlup, showing how it was only held by the thinnest fibre of ghostly flesh. A few cries rang out from the first year Griffindors, and Harry found himself put off his appetite. 

Thankfully, the feast finished soon, and Dumbledore stood again. He called for the students attention, and began to speak. 

"Now that you're all fed and watered, I have a few start of term notices I'd like to announce. First years should know that the Forbidden Forest is just that, forbidden. Older students would do well to remember this as well. Our caretaker, mister Filch, has asked, for the 387th time in my estimation, that spells are not permitted in the corridors. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death," Dumbledore said, nodding sagely as he finished. 

Harry stared at the old wizard for a moment, then glanced at the others at Gryffindor table. They were all solemn, except for a pair of twins, who glanced at each other and nodded sharply. 

"Now," Dumbledore pronounced, "let us all sing the school song." Dumbledore flicked his wand and a ribbon twirled out, forming words in the air. Everyone began to sing to a different tune, causing a chaotic cacophony. Thankfully, the song finished quickly. The last ones left singing were the twins who had nodded when the forbidden corridor was announced. 

The students were then sent off to their respective dorms, and Harry found himself in a group of other first years, trailing after the redhead who had offered him potatoes. 

"Watch the staircases," the redhead said. "They like to change." As he said that, a staircase swivelled around, the students on it seemingly unbothered as they kept walking. 

The first years soon arrived at a portrait of a large woman in a soft pink dress. 

"Password?" She said imperiously. 

"Caput Draconis," the redhead returned with equal haughtiness, and the portrait swung open to reveal a doorway. 

"Boys' dorms are up the stairs to the left, to the right for girls. You will get your schedule tomorrow at breakfast. Your luggage is already in your dorms. Good night." And with that, the redhead who had led them swirled away. 

Harry scurried to the left staircase, ignoring the squeaking redheads attempts to speak with him. 

In the dorms, he eventually located the room that had his trunk at the foot of one four-poster bed. Harry curled into the soft mattress, guiding the curtains closed with one hand and falling asleep. 


	8. Chapter 8

Harry woke to Ocarina trilling a song that made him think of the sun shining down on a sleepy forest. He got ready quickly, and found an older student that he asked to show him to the route to the Great Hall for breakfast. As he followed the older student, he considered the strange things that had happened since he came to the Wizarding World. The letter addressed as 'Link' as well as the Gringotts quill writing it, and the Sorting Hat calling him the 'bearer of Courage'. Harry honestly didn't feel very courageous when he thought about it, but he supposed the magical hat knew what it was talking about, since it was a magical hat. Lost in thought as he was, Harry almost walked straight past the Great Hall. He turned sharply, almost skidding on the worn stone, and made his way to the Gryffindor table, sitting roughly and grabbing a piece of toast. 

Harry began to butter his toast, almost stabbing through the bread since he was deep in thought again. He glanced up at the scantly populated hall. He realized he had gotten up particularly early, even without his aunt there to screech about her 'darling Duddums' needing his breakfast, which was usually enough food to feed someone for a whole day. No wonder Dudley was so large. 

"Mister Potter," came from behind him, and he twisted away from his thoroughly mauled toast to see Professor McGonagall standing there, holding a piece of paper towards him. 

"Your schedule," she said, with a faint ghost of a smile at her lips. Harry nodded quietly and took the paper, looking it over. He found himself particularly excited for Potions, seeing it was with the Slytherins (he could talk with Draco again) and thinking it might be like cooking (one of his favourite chores, despite being forced into it and Dudleys insatiable appetite). Transfiguration, he saw, was with Professor McGonagall. He wondered if he could learn to turn into a cat like her.

He returned to his mauled toast, it was honestly better than what the Dursleys had given him, and decided it needed some strawberry jam. He added the jam and ate the toast like it would be taken away, startling a couple of the professors at the head table. 

One, a greasy-haired bat of a man, sneered, but underneath that, grimaced slightly. Professor Severus Snape was not one to let grudges go easily however, and thought to himself, 'just like the spawn of Potter to have the manners of a starved wolf'. Another Professor, this one in a turban and looking around like the students would suddenly become hungry for blood and decide his was best, thought to himself as well. 'Perfect, the Potter boy will want away from his current situation, I will be able to convince him to join me.'

Professor Dumbledore watched over Harry with a grandfatherly air, noting to himself how small Harry was and how little he seemed to eat. 'Arabella would tell me if there were problems,' he thought, secure in his thoughts that Petunia would look past her sister and see an innocent child instead. 'At least he has not grown up thinking that people are his playthings, to do with as he pleases.' And so Dumbledore nodded to himself before taking a lemon scone and a glass of pumpkin juice. 

The Gryffindor table began to fill up, Hermione taking a seat next to him and one of the many redheads boxing him in from the other side. Hermione took an apple and a scone while the redhead stacked his plate with everything. Harry turned to the redhead and began to introduce himself. 

"I'm sorry for not talking yesterday," he said, as this was the one who had tried to speak with him, "I'm Harry. Harry Potter." The redhead nodded and swallowed the bit of sausage he had been eating. 

"I'm Ron Weasley," he said, before fully processing who he was talking to. "You're Harry Potter? Do you really have the scar?"

"What scar?" Harry asked, snatching a blueberry scone. Ron looked astonished. 

"What scar!?" Ron yelped, his voice going up at least two octaves. "The most famous scar in the world and you say 'what scar'!" Harry nodded. Hermione, now fully awake from the shrill tones only a short distance away, turned to them. 

"You're in a lot of the modern history books I read," she said, nodding. "And a whole series of novels in the bookstore was about Harry Potter. The scar in question is shaped like a lightning bolt, at least according to what I read." Harry's mouth formed an 'o' of comprehension and he brushed back the fringe of unruly bangs that hid his forehead. There, a dark colour that stood out from his surprisingly pale skin, was a slim lightning bolt shape. Ron gaped and Hermione made a noise like someone stepped on a snake. Harry made a face, though neither seemed to notice, and dropped his bangs, focusing instead on the blueberry scone like it held the answers to the universe on its golden brown surface. 

His rescue came in the form of Professor McGonagall, her sharp Scottish brogue interrupting the silent staring as she gave schedules to Ron and Hermione.

Soon, breakfast was over and a cluster of first years were on their way to their first class. Harry glanced at his schedule. First, Charms. Harry followed the schedule, glancing at number plates on doors and following gaggles of both older students and other first years until he arrived at the Charms room. He took a seat at an empty table, fairly close to the solid wall of blue and bronze the Ravenclaws* they shared Charms with made. Gryffindors continued to trickle in, the last being a slightly chubby blond boy who collapsed into his seat with a huff. As soon as all the students were there , the rather small Charms Professor, Flitwick, stood on a stack of books behind his lectern and began to call roll. As he got to the P's and called Harry's name he squeaked and nearly fell off his stack of books. The class began, a lecture on proper wand movements and pronunciation, followed by learning the movements and pronunciation to a levitation spell, Wingardium Leviosa. Harry left that period with his head hurting slightly from all the information, and some worry that he would pronounce something wrong and end up as a dog biscuit or a toilet brush. 

Transfiguration was just as exciting, if not more so. McGonagall started out the class in her cat form, demonstrating her transformation, and then proceeded to turn her desk into a pig and back. She then fixed the class with her sharp gaze. 

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said sharply. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned." She then proceeded to hand out matches, with the instructions to turn them into needles. She ran through the process, the wand movements and the spell itself, demonstrating as she went. When the demonstration was finished, Professor McGonagall displayed to the class a perfectly formed tapestry needle, that looked like it had been a tapestry needle the whole time. She let the class of first years start trying. Harry poked at his match, which had turned silver and pointy, when McGonagall shouted out "10 points to Gryffindor!" holding up a slim needle in front of Hermione's desk, which was void of matches. Harry continued to poke at his match, which slowly changed to look more like a needle, until the end of class, when they were assigned an essay on the properties of the transfiguration. 

Harry glanced at his schedule again. Potions was next. Excellent, he could see his first friend and hopefully find a favourite class early on! Harry carefully followed a throng of Slytherin first years to the dungeons, trailed by surprisingly hesitant Gryffindors. The famed Gryffindor courage could not stand up to rumours of Snapes favouritism. The students all bustled to take seats, the Slytherins wherever they pleased and the Gryffindors as far from the front as possible. Harry sat among a handful of Slytherins, a dot of red and gold among green and silver. 

Draco sat next to Harry, an almost approving look in his eye. He gave a glare, as if out of long practice and habit, but sat next to Harry and behaved quite pleasantly despite looking somewhat like he had sucked on a lemon. 

The class soon started with Professor Snape sweeping in, cloak bellowing menacingly in the dim, flickering lighting of the dungeons. He began to speak, in a voice that captured the classroom, yet was just above a whisper. 

"There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class. As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art of potion making. However, for those of you who possess the pre-disposition, I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses; I can tell you how to brew glory, bottle fame, and even put a stopper in death. Then again, maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel comfortable enough to not pay attention. Mister Potter!" He snapped at Harry, who had been dutifully taking notes, at the end of his speech. Harry flinched. Adults snapping, in his experience, led to painful humiliation. 

"Potter," Snape said with a sneer. "What would I get if I added powdered asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Hermiones hand shot up and Draco looked between Harry and Snape with sharp, calculating eyes. 

"I don't know, sir," Harry answered, as politely as possible (because being rude or aggressive only increased the punishment coming his way).

"Hmph. Fame clearly isn't everything." Snape spun, confronting another Gryffindor. 

"Longbottom," he growled. "Where would you find a bezoar?"

The hapless Gryffindor flinched away from Snape. "I-I d-don't know, s-sir," the poor boy stuttered out. Snape turned to confront a final Gryffindor, though not Hermione, whose hand had continued to climb until she was all but standing on her seat. 

"Weasley," he snapped. "What is the difference between Wolfsbane and Monkshood?"

"I don't know. I think Hermione does though, why don't you ask her?" Ron said, a slight smirk tugging at his mouth. Snape sneered. 

"That will be 10 points from Gryffindor for cheek. For your information asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is found in the stomach of a goat, and Monkshood and Wolfsbane are the same plant, also known as Aconite. Well, aren't you going to write this down?" Snape snapped. 

He then whirled and flicked the days potion onto the blackboard. Once everyone had gotten to work, he stalked the aisles, sneering and looming. Harry dutifully ground up snake fangs and put them in his cauldron. 

An explosion sounded from one side of the room, along with a miserable whimper. Snape spun towards the sound, and took in Neville Longbottom sitting on the ground, covered in boils. He snapped at the poor Gryffindor next to Neville. 

"Finnigan! I suppose you didn't notice him adding the porcupine quills before he turned the heat off." Said Gryffindor flinched. "Take him to the Hospital Wing," Snape growled.

At the end of class, Harry left Draco, extracting a promise that they would meet up to study soon, and caught up to Ron. Ron looked at Harry like Harry was a dragon who had eaten Ron's firstborn. 

"What're you doing with a slimy snake?" Ron accused. Harry looked at him confused. 

"Slimy snake?" Harry said, tilting his head slightly, questioningly. Ron snarled a bit. 

"Slytherins are all up to no good, they're all evil!" Ron said, passionately. Harry shook his head, looking hurt. 

"Draco was my first friend," he began. "He was quite nice on the train, and even bought snacks for both of us." Ron looked scandalized and angry. 

"Yeah, well, that doesn't change the fact that Slytherins are all gits," he said, with a sharp nod like that was all he'd hear on the matter. Harry sighed before making his way to the Great Hall for supper. He supposed he wouldn't change minds in a day.


End file.
